For all the cookies!
by Lilly Envy
Summary: The band and color guard find themselves head-to-head against the JROTC students in a manhunt! Mild language. *PLEASE R&R!*
1. Rainy Day

Disclaimer (do I need one?): Just in case you're wondering, I have no possessions in the world but a bent nickel and a gum wrapper (read: I do not own anything in this story but the story itself) and I'm not trying to discourage people from joining Marching Band, Color Guard, or JROTC. This is just for fun. Get a life.  
  
Author's note: My first story ever! I'm kinda nervous about it... ^.^ Anyone who reads this and gets offended, please don't. I have lots of friends in JROTC and no, I'm not trying to put it down. It was just the first group for the band to go against that made sense. ^.~ ***Please R&R*** and if I see that people like it, I'll upload the second chapter. And please, if you can't say anything nice, send it in an e-mail (preferably with a death threat). ^.~ This is for all my buddies on guard and in band, who remember all the great (*cough, cough*) times we've had!  
  
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It was a rainy day in early September.  
  
The school was eerily empty, save for a few cars parked outside. A distant echo of drumming feet could be heard from the gym; the JROTC students were performing drill. A harsh command accentuated their steady tattoo. Much softer, a murmur of voices could be heard from the cafeteria. A small fire was going on the floor, based mostly of notebook paper and mystery meat. (The mystery meat was close enough to wood to burn well and surprisingly long, although the fire smelled suspicious.)  
  
Finally the silence was broken my tentative question. "Where IS everyone? It seems really weird to me that only the JROTC students and the band should show up. It's not raining _that_ hard." I sighed and pulled my jacket closer around me.  
  
"You color guard wuss," Tasha scoffed, making a face at me. She grinned right afterward to take the sting from her words.  
  
"Band geek," I replied. We were quiet for a moment, listening to the endless marching that came from the gym. "Are they EVER going to stop?" I asked my friends.  
  
"Not likely," Jennifer replied, twirling one of her glass mallets meant for the bells–she still played her instrument occasionally, even though she was on the color guard now. "Their idea of a good time is marching and polishing their uniform button thingies. They must be brainwashed or something–what else could possess them to march CONSTANTLY?"  
  
"And wear those ugly outfits,"Adrienne added, grimacing and pointing to her uniform that she'd put on in preparation for the pep rally. "Ours might be uncomfortable, but at least it isn't UGLY."  
  
"And those hideous hats! I mean, they look like what we made out of newspaper in 2nd grade!"  
  
"And what's with all those ugly, complicated ribbons? I don't know how they remember them all--'This one is for doing a correct left face, *this* one is for doing a correct right face..."  
  
We all laughed, enjoying our little joke. Our laughter was cut short when we heard a soft, strange sound. "What is it?" Josh asked, confused. He suddenly noticed a dark spot where a ceiling tile should've been. "Look! On the ceiling, over there!" As we collectively turned and stared at the hole, a rope dropped out of it, followed by five JROTC students in camoflauge. They still had on those funny-shaped hats and had put black stripes under each eye, evidently their idea of war paint. "You guys really need a life," Josh said pointedly.  
  
"Isn't that the rope we have to climb for gym?" Tera whispered to Jennifer.  
  
"You were making fun of JROTC!" the leader snapped. Her hair was tucked back in a beret, and her eyes were narrowed to slits, but that didn't keep me from recognizing her.  
  
"Hi, Trina," I said. "We were just joking. Come on, lighten up."  
  
"Well, your jokes weren't *funny*," she said angrily. "JROTC isn't stupid! It's–"  
  
"It's more like retarded," I agreed. Everyone in band and color guard started laughing. Trina clenched her fists and gave me a dirty look. "Oh, come OFF it already! For heaven's sake, Trina. You make fun of band all the time and we never get all freaked-out like you do. Besides..." I couldn't resist saying something else awful. "At least in band you have to have _some_ rudimentary intelligence."  
  
"Is that SO?" Trina was really angry now; her whole face was a strange reddish color. "Well, band members can't do things like read maps, march in formation, OR have a military-style manhunt!"  
  
"We march," Jennifer said with disdain. "And we can read maps, AND we could beat you guys in a manhunt anyday! Let's do it now, in fact, while we wait to go home!"  
  
  
  
"Band against ROTC!" someone exclaimed from the group of camo-clad students. "I like it!"  
  
Trina's head snapped around, and she fixed the outspoken freshman with a steely glare. "You're out of order, soldier," she said in a low monotone. We watched as the freshman peeled off and began doing pushups.  
  
"What's that all about?" Adrienne murmured, rolling her eyes. "Just for talking? And they say they're not obsessed." A few people snickered.  
  
Trina looked back at me. "And what'll be our prize when we beat you?"  
  
"If, by some demonic miracle, you guys beat us, you can get..." I glanced around. Tiffney's trumpet wouldn't be a good prize, not for them, because they couldn't see the beauty in the silver, polished, two-year old instrument with a brand new mouthpiece. "Well, what do you want?"  
  
Trina smirked. "I want every one of you to quit band. And I want you to tell everyone you meet that band is gay. And I want you to join ROTC and sign my recruiting paper!"  
  
Tera murmured in my ear, "This is a bad idea." But it had to be done...and besides, we were in the school, not a jungle. Those soldiers-in-training didn't stand a chance.  
  
"Done," I said after glancing over my shoulder. "And once we've ground your little camo butts into the mud, we want you to quit ROTC and join band. And tell everyone you meet that ROTC is gay. And...we want you to each EAT a full tray of school lunch every day! Even on mystery meat day!"  
  
Trina didn't seem worried. "Fine," she agreed. "The manhunt starts in half an hour. Be ready." We watched as they climbed up the rope and disappeared into the ceiling, pushing the tile back into place behind them.  
  
Jennifer shook her head. "They could've used a door."  
  
Twenty minutes later, the band members and color guard decided to make a list of their resources. Tasha, Jennifer and I had mostly taken charge, and the others were sitting around exchanging several battle plans. Most of them involved green jello in some form. 


	2. Good and Bad

Author's note: Wow! You like me, you really like me! ^.~ Thanks for all the great reviews, everyone. I'm sorry that this chapter isn't up sooner; I've been in guard camp, generally running laps for messing up and spying on my teacher and her boyfriend with the rest of the guard. ((Yeah, we really need lives. ^.~)) Thanks for all the tips to improve my story as well--I appreciate them! ^.^ Keep letting me know what you think and I'll try to keep this thing lively and do return reviews! One other thing--the last paragraph of Chapter One was supposed to be in this chapter. Oh well. ^.^  
  
And seriously, you guys, I'm not trying to insult ROTC. Like I said, three of my best friends are in ROTC, and I use some of their terminology here. Just in case you get a little confused, BDUs are basically their camo outfits, and a PFC is a Private First Class, the next rank up from Private. ^.~ And a question: Would you like for Chapter Three to be a list of characters, their class, and position or instrument in band/guard/ROTC? I was just wondering because I know it's a lot of people to keep straight! ^.^ Let me know what you think!  
  
*******  
  
Twenty minutes later, the band members and color guard decided to make a list of their resources. Tasha, Jennifer and I had mostly taken charge, and the others were sitting around exchanging several battle plans. Most of them involved green jello and a vicious use of percussion instruments.  
  
"So let's see," I said from our improvised "command post", the choir risers on the stage at the end of the large room. "That gives us Ms. Holly's computer, five boxes of reeds, our instruments, and the trumpet section's secret stash of valve oil." I looked down at my sheet again. "Also 5 freshmen, 6 sophomores, 5 juniors, 4 seniors, a coffeepot, a stepladder, and the guard equipment. I wish everyone had come today, we could've used the extra people."  
  
"Guard equipment?" Tasha asked, confused.  
  
"We-ll," Jennifer said slowly, "If I can hit myself with the flagpoles and rifles, I know I can hit them, too."  
  
"Not too hard–we don't want to hurt them, really," Tasha cautioned. Erin, a freshman nearby, snickered at that. Jennifer silently kicked her.  
  
"We can lock the captives in the drum closet," I said. "Since its ceiling is solid and they took the drums out of it. And...well, we'll find a use for that other stuff."  
  
"We found supplies!" someone shouted. Josh and Leon ran up and dumped two armfuls of various snack foods on the lower riser. "Isn't it great?" The pair looked very proud of themselves. Jennifer grabbed a box of Rice Krispie Treats and wrote her name on them.  
  
"My stash!" Cherish said, offended.  
  
"You can share," Jennifer told the freshman. "Okay, Steven, do you still have your skeleton key?" she asked the drum major.  
  
"Yeah, I've already locked all the doors," he said. "I mean, duh–"  
  
"That's enough!" Tiffney interrupted, before a fight broke out.  
  
There were only five minutes left before the manhunt started. We had to hurry. "Okay, here's what we do!" Tasha said. "Cherish, Erin, you two get the stepladder and take out all the lightbulbs between the computer lab and the stairs. Jessie, Tera, you two spread out valve oil on the floor." Scarcely had the four went out the door when we heard a small scream.  
  
Everyone crowded to the band room's front door, only to see the four dispatched band members desperately trying to get back in. "They're out there!" Erin gasped, shoving her way into the room. "ROTC! I saw them!" This sent the whole band into a state of disorder, most of the people running around in small circles and screaming as loudly as possible.  
  
"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!!!" Jennifer screamed. Everyone froze in mid- step--Josh and Erin even dropped the box of reeds that they were fighting over. It's hard to ignore her if she really wants to be heard--generally, if you don't notice her the first time, she runs after you with a large stick and beats you over the head until you pay attention. This time, she managed to bring everyone to a halt without using physical violence.  
  
"Okay," Tasha said. "Someone get out there and get those two--capture them if you can!"  
  
Jennifer and I smirked at each other before grabbing the nearest two handy flags and sprinting out the door. Jennifer caught their attention with ease--pretending (I hoped) to trip and get tangled in her flag. When the two ROTC students ran foward to capture her, I started flinging my pole around like mad and managed to knock down one student. Jennifer leaped up and finished off the other one, tangling him up in her flag. "Mission accomplished, you losers!" she crowed.  
  
"Jennifer," I said sternly. "Sportsmanship, you know. Don't gloat. Although that *was* ridiculously simple..." I added slowly, smirking again. One ROTC student--PFC Jeff Pauley, I believed--glared from his ensnarement in Jennifer's flag. The other student, sprawled on the floor and serving as a seat for myself, didn't seem to hear. "I hope I didn't hurt her," I murmured to no one in particular. Jennifer was searching the pocket of his BDUs for something--what, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.  
  
"Is it safe?" Tasha called. "I hear Jennifer braying out there like a jacka--"  
  
"It's safe!" I yelled loudly, hoping Jennifer hadn't heard. "But we could use some help!"  
  
Jennifer remained oblivious. "Look, he had white cheddar popcorn," she gleefully exclaimed, waving the bag about a half-inch from my face. "It's mine now! Sucker!" she taunted the PFC. "I bet you want some, dontcha?" She slowly ate a piece of popcorn, licking her lips. "Oh, it's sooo tasty...so cheesy...and you can't have any! Mwahaha!!!" the guard member cackled.  
  
Several freshmen flooded out of the bandroom, surrounded our captives, and carried/dragged/shoved them into the band room and then into the closet. We were careful to shut the door behind us--better to be safe than sorry.  
  
"Score one for us!" Cherish cheered once we were inside the band room.  
  
"We need to get divided into squads of our own," Tasha murmured, marking something down on her clipboard. "And it was two, actually--we captured two ROTC 'soldiers', not one, so it would be score *two* for us..."  
  
"Whatever," Erin and Cherish said in unison, giving high-fives to each other.  
  
It seemed like scarcely two minutes had passed before Tasha had us neatly organized into groups. "Team Blue, Team Red, Team Green, Team Twirl, our specialized unit..." She nodded at the guard before standing in front of the last team of five, composed of percussionists. "And Team Turd."  
  
"Hey!" the percussionists chorused in unison.  
  
"Is there a problem, Team Turd?" Tasha asked blandly.  
  
"Our name!" Brittany replied curtly, putting her hands on her hips.  
  
"Oh, but that won't matter much anyway," Tasha replied, the faintest hint of a smile on her face. "You have a very special assignment, one that could mean the success or failure of the band/guard against the ROTC."  
  
Every percussionist's eyes went wide. "Ooh," they breathed in unison. "Will we be an attack unit?" At the thought of the percussionists as our attack unit, everyone on Teams Blue, Green, Red, and the non-former- percussionists on Team Twirl grimaced.  
  
"Attack unit? PERCUSSION?" Tasha repeated. "Are you serious? You guys are refreshment committee." Several people breathed a sigh of relief. "Now go start pouring us drinks. Team Red," she added, turning to the entirely-freshman squad. "You guys have first patrol. You will stay together, patrolling the upper hallway and classrooms before moving downstairs to the lower hallway and classrooms, followed by a patrol of the gym, cafeteria, boys/girls locker rooms and shop class. Any questions?" Tasha paused, then continued. "The leader of the squad gets a flag pole; two members get a set of drumsticks, two members get the guard rifles. Upon the capture of any ROTC students, you will report immediately to the base with any captured students. Good hunting, Team Red!"  
  
"And for Pete's sake, TRY not to mess anything up!" Josh called after them.  
  
The freshmen disappeared down the hall, managing to stay relatively quiet. Erin, the leader of the group, looked obviously smug as she carried her pole before the rest of Team Red. I laid down on the risers and tried to relax a bit while almost everyone rushed to cover the board in graffiti along the lines of, "Team ---- rules!"  
  
I awoke with a start to the sound of pounding on the band room door--I didn't even realize that I'd dozed off. After making sure it was an ally outside, she opened the door and permitted Erin to enter. "Erin, where's the rest of Team Red?" Nina asked.  
  
Erin panted, "We were--ambushed by ROTC--in the locker rooms--I was..." She paused, gasping a few more moments before managing to speak plainly. "The ROTC students have 4 captives now. Team Red is gone!"  
  
"God help us," Tera murmured. 


End file.
